


A Temporary Surrender of Temperance

by ferric



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 13:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferric/pseuds/ferric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Tsuna wouldn't be here anymore. That, Hibari knew for sure. But for now, Tsuna was still here. For now, Hibari would let himself have this much. TYL!HibarixTYL!Tsuna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Temporary Surrender of Temperance

Hibari leaned his elbows against the railing of the balcony, the stifling Italian summer heat pooled in the sweat of his back. The scent of a disgustingly expensive cigarette and an even more disgustingly expensive cologne filled the air, and then the Baby, now no longer a baby, leaned back against the railing next to him, one long leg folded over the other, the edges of the gold buttons above his coat tail gracefully slid above the balcony railing without a scratch. Hibari held back a scoff at the showy display of wealth and stealth, but he knew that even if Reborn did scratch those buttons, replacing them did nothing to dent his wealth, and Reborn's movements were more unconscious than deliberate, honed from pure skills.

"You're not going to join the party?" Reborn gestured with the hand holding the cigarette to the grand ballroom beyond the glass window doors. He then lifted the cigarette up to his lips and took a long drag.

Hibari didn't dignify that with a response. The bitterness of defeat still stung his tongue and made his hands twitched for his tonfas. The Baby knew damn well that he hated crowding; he was only here because he lost a bet.

Reborn chuckled, a strong, deep sound, completely different from his baby voice ten years ago. It seemed that he didn't expect a verbal answer from Hibari.

Good. That made two of them.

Reborn offered Hibari a cigarette from his pack, and Hibari refused. Hibari would make a scathing comment about smoking being for the weak, but given the fact that he could only win one out of three fights against the Baby, he would keep his words to himself.

"Tsuna had gotten stronger," Reborn said, seemingly absentmindedly, but Hibari was smart enough to know otherwise. Hibari kept his eyes on the rose garden below, resisting the urge to turn back and follow Reborn's gaze, which would surely led to a familiar figure clad in a pure white suit.

"He had," Hibari said, not wanting to encourage conversation, but willing to give credit when it was due.

"He had won the bet against you, after all," Reborn chuckled again.

Hibari clenched his fists. That was true. They had made a bet that if Tsuna won the spar against Hibari, then Hibari would have to show up to this ridiculous party. That was a month ago. A lot had changed in a month.

Hibari could still feel the throbbing on his left wrist.

That wasn't all, however. Hibari knew that if Tsuna spar more with him, then he would have a fifty-fifty chance of winning. Hibari didn't know why Reborn had to point this out other than to test his reaction, but that was completely unnecessary. Tsuna had stopped being a herbivore a long time ago.

They fell into a silence that felt cold even though the summer heat was hanging in the air. The afternoon twilight slowly faded to a balmy evening filled with the chirping of the cicadas. Hibari could hear the soft buzzing of the party at his back, wondering if standing here counted as joining the party.

"Reborn, Bianchi-san is looking for you," a familiar voice floated from the doorway. "Ah! Hibari-san!"

"That's my cue," Reborn pushed off from the railing with one graceful movement. Then, speaking softly so that only Hibari could hear, Reborn said. "Tsuna is strong. Believe in him."

Hibari waited until his footsteps grew fainter and fainter, the scent of cigarette slowly melted in the heavy summer air, before turning around to look at Tsuna. No words passed between them.

"You came," Tsuna said at last, and there was something in his expression that made Hibari felt uncomfortable.  
Hibari turned back to the rose garden below. "I always kept my word." There was nothing accusatory in his tone.

"I know that," Tsuna's voice was suddenly by his ear, and Hibari almost jerked in surprise from Tsuna's abrupt presence next to him, shocked at Tsuna's stealth. There was a time when Tsuna would trip over his own feet, movements clumsy and loud and excessive as he walked, but that time had long gone. Now, ten years later, Hibari had to utilize all of his senses to catch Tsuna's quick feet. "But I also said that you didn't have to come. I know how much you don't like crowding."

Tsuna didn't expect an explanation, and Hibari didn't give him one. Hibari knew that Tsuna didn't need one anyway, since he had this annoying ability to read others like they were open books. Tsuna should know, without Hibari saying anything, that no matter how blood thirsty Hibari was or how he would love to beat those who crowded with each other into a bloody pulp, he was a man of his words. Bets were bets. He lost. It was simple as that.

They stood in silence, but it was a different sort of silence from the one with Reborn. It was warm, but not too stifling. Tsuna was close to him, but not constricting. It was, if Hibari ever admitted it (never), comfortable.

Perhaps Hibari's own motivations were not as simple as he had thought.

His left wrist throbbed again, and Hibari unconsciously shifted it a little, the rough fabric of his suit and the cold cuff-links sliding over the bandages. The movement caught the attention of Tsuna, and Hibari could feel the force of Tsuna's stare burning his skin. He wanted to scowl that his wrist was fine, so Tsuna could just shove his concern in a place where the sun didn't shine, but he decided to remain silent.

There was something that Hibari didn't want to dig up, and discouraging a conversation would be the first step.

But Tsuna broke the silence. "Does it still hurt?" he asked softly.

His wrist felt like it was on fire.

"No."

"You're lying," Tsuna accused, and Hibari turned to glare at him. There was a time when Tsuna would flinch under the weight of his glare, but now was no longer that time. The Tsuna now was more courageous to the point of foolishness; caring to the point of stupidity. He always cared too much for others, but the bravery only made it worse. Sometimes, Hibari wanted to grab Tsuna's shoulders and shake the lunacy out of him. "I'm sorry that I couldn't—"

"Don't apologize," Hibari cut him off, "if you're going to apologize for something as small as my wound."

"But—"

"Byakuran was the one, not you," Hibari said firmly, intending to snip off any chance of The Tsuna Self-Blaming Show.

The wound on his left wrist was nothing compared to what Byakuran would have done to Tsuna last week if Hibari hadn't stopped him.

"You shouldn't have been hurt because of me," Tsuna said, just when Hibari thought he couldn't be more foolish.

"You're a mafia boss. People will get hurt for you," Hibari scoffed. I'll get hurt for you. "You know that. Get used to it."

It wasn't something new, but it was definitely alarming how easily the thought of being hurt for Tsuna came to him. He wasn't going to get killed for Tsuna because he wasn't ever going to be killed—he wasn't weak—but he was willing to fight for Tsuna, and how easily he accepted this fact surprised even himself.

"Knowing doesn't mean I have to get used to it," Tsuna whispered.

A light touch on his left wrist startled Hibari, and he almost attacked the hand that touched him, by instinct, but before he could, Tsuna was flushed against his left side, as if telling Hibari that it was alright. Hibari calmed down fractionally, but he still eyed Tsuna with wariness.

"Does it get easier?" Tsuna asked softly. He caressed Hibari's wrist gently.

Even though his wrist became more painful at the touch, Hibari didn't pull away. "Does it get easier for you to see it?" Hibari shot back, already knowing the answer.

"No" was Tsuna's honest reply, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ten years and Tsuna had never gotten used to seeing others being wounded for him, seeing his friends sacrificing their lives for him.

Tsuna grabbed Hibari's wrist lightly and placed it against his lips.

"Would you come to my room tonight?" Tsuna asked.

 

***

 

Hibari's left wrist protested in pain as he pushed Tsuna onto the bed and crawled on top of him. Their suit jackets were strewn on the floor, the party long forgotten.

"I'll bite you—" Hibari whispered hotly into Tsuna's ear, but stopped cold when he realized the next words. He couldn't say it out loud, as if it would become real if he did.

Tsuna pulled him down for a desperate kiss, cutting off his train of thoughts. "I'm still here," Tsuna whispered when he pulled away, his eye lashes brushing against Hibari's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."

Hibari felt something molding slowly inside him, and it was only then that he realized that something had crumbled inside him in the first place. His left wrist began to throb with pain again, an aching reminder of his own failure, and Tsuna's self-blame must be infectious because Hibari loathed himself for not being strong enough. He wasn't strong enough to defeat Byakuran. He wasn't strong enough to protect Tsuna. He wasn't strong enough to stop Tsuna from doing what he knew Tsuna was going to do.

Hibari began to unbutton Tsuna's shirt, desperate to slide his hands over Tsuna's skin, desperate to feel that Tsuna was real and alive. Tsuna felt so fragile under his fingers, even though Hibari knew he was anything but. He smelled like clean soap and summer and scorching fire and long sparing sessions and life, and Hibari took it all in, took everything that Tsuna was willing to give him, took everything that he could take.

This is the last time, his traitorous mind taunted him, and Hibari tried to push that thought away, focusing instead on placing butterfly kisses down Tsuna's chest. You'll never have the chance to do this again.

When Tsuna was moaning and writhing under his touch, gasping in pleasure as Hibari thrust into him, claiming him, coming inside of him, Hibari felt as if his whole world was burning in Tsuna's flame.  
This is the last time.

As they lied next to each other in the afterglow, Hibari pulled Tsuna flush against his chest, feeling Tsuna's fast breaths brushing hotly against his skin.

He didn't know that sex could make him feel so complete and tattered in pieces at the same time.

 

***

 

"I would die for you," Tsuna said, the moonlight filtering through the curtains painting silver on his naked skin. "For all of you."

"I'd rather that you live for me," Hibari said, and it was the first and last time that he would ever admit this. He felt that he needed to say it now, felt that something was changing, felt the air of finality that Tsuna was draping around his own neck like a noose. Hibari tightened his grip around Tsuna, as if he could stop Tsuna if he held on tight enough. "Those herbivores of yours too."

"I know," Tsuna said softly, snuggling into Hibari's warmth even though the summer heat was suffocating. "But I want to try my best to protect all of you." He propped himself on his elbow and planted a kiss on Hibari's forehead.

It felt like a good bye.

Hibari pulled Tsuna to his chest. Something was burning in his throat, and his skin felt too tight, but he didn't know what it was.

Hibari felt two hands pushing against his chest, and then Tsuna's eyes were boring straight into his. "I'm still here."

He placed a hand at the back of Tsuna's neck and pulled him into a kiss, devouring Tsuna's lips as if to convince himself that Tsuna was real.

For now.

One day, Tsuna wouldn't be here anymore. That, Hibari knew for sure.

But for now, Tsuna was still here. For now, Hibari would let himself have this much.

 

***

 

Yamamoto was the one who called Hibari when it happened; Gokudera was too much of a teary mess of grief to do it himself.

_I would die for you._

There was a phantom ache on his left wrist even though the wound had long healed.

A faint feeling of lips pressing against his forehead lingered even though their owner was gone.


End file.
